


Cave Lupum

by morrnrhu64



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: An effort was made, Angst, Canon-Typical Homophobia, Geralt does too, Geralt is dating a sorceress, Geralt tries to be a good friend, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I'm probably unkind to ellipses too, Lambert Feels (The Witcher), Lambert Needs a Hug (The Witcher), Lambert and Geralt are bros, Mentions of homophobia, Short One Shot, Some angst, The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), also Eskel, because Lambert is a little shit, but I left it ambiguous as to which one, fuck it let's hug all of them, he's just not good at them, italics abuse, poor Lambert, the rating is just for strong language, the title is dumb but i'm too tired to come up with something better, they're going to take the italics away from me if I keep this up, well sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrnrhu64/pseuds/morrnrhu64
Summary: Lambert deals with griefhisway.Geralt helps.
Relationships: Mentions of Geralt/Triss Merigold, Mentions of Geralt/Yennefer of Vengerberg, Mentions of past Lambert/Aiden
Comments: 19
Kudos: 67





	Cave Lupum

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the quest to help Lambert get revenge. I wrote this coming off a gaming binge having Lambert Feels ~~instead of doing something sensible like sleeping~~ , couldn't get it into a coherent piece, but I actually kind of like it??? so I decided to set it free in the wild, hope somebody else gets a little enjoyment out of it too lol ~~better than shaming my ancestors with fiLTH again, though I want to write more about Calum even if it's not forthcoming *sobs*~~ Anyway I'm probably playing fast and loose with canon, but I've only played the games, not read the books or watched the series ~~because I don't like Henry Cavill sorry fam~~ so it's based off of how I personally play W3, hope that's okay!

'His name was Aiden. He was my friend.' 

Lambert says _friend_ with an edge to it. The way Geralt's eyes flick away shows that he understands.

'Sorry about your friend,' Geralt mumbles lamely. Lambert isn't mad, because he knows Geralt means it, that he's just awkward as fuck. 

The whole lacking-in-feelings thing? Lambert's _pretty_ sure it's bullshit, and cites himself and the White Wolf as evidence. Because Lambert is angry and frustrated as shit, _all the time,_ and Geralt's a soft-hearted moron. He has emotions--he's just completely stupid about them, and probably would've been, even if he hadn't been a witcher.

Only once did Geralt ever try to pretend he had no feelings to Lambert, and Lambert knew he was a fucking liar. And he knew it because Geralt only lies when he thinks it'll help someone--to soften the blow of having to inform someone of a dead family member, to avoid stoking racial tensions when there's a Scoia'tael unit in the woods, to protect a stupid but ultimately harmless troll in a nearby cave. Geralt's such an idiot, he even does it when it means he'll have to forfeit his pay and find a new contract somewhere else. 

When half the boys in Lambert's group got their brains splattered across the cavern floor during the stupid medallion trial, Geralt brought a bottle of his own vodka to Lambert's bunk and said, 'It was over too quick for them to suffer.'

And Lambert _knew_ it was a lie, because he remembered hearing the boy whose bed had been next to his screaming for his mother, just like he'd sometimes screamed for her when he had nightmares during those long, cold nights in Kaer Morhen.

Lambert hated Geralt for that. For a while, he _hated_ Geralt, hated him for being content with the witcher's life, hated him for not stopping Vesemir from torturing children with the sick experiments, hated him for expecting Lambert to be a man while talking to him like he was a little kid. He hated Geralt for not being as miserable as he should've been--as miserable as any sane man should have been, taken from his family too young to do anything about it and turned into a weapon to protect useless, stupid people who weren't even fucking grateful for it.

Lambert had _hated_ Geralt, resented him for years afterward. Time and distance and near-death experiences had given him perspective, tempered with a bit of genuine respect for Geralt's skill. They're brothers on the Path, after all, despite their differences. But the knowledge that Geralt is sitting there, feeling sorry for him, is almost enough to bring the hatred back in full force.

'Don't,' Lambert warns him. Geralt opens his mouth like he'll say something, anyway--but then he changes his mind, gives a little nod instead.

And somehow it makes Lambert hate him _more_. Geralt's a stubborn piece of shit sometimes, who'll cut bandits to ribbons, turn on nobles as soon as help them, who won't even bow to the fucking _emperor_ of Nilfgaard in his own fucking _palace_ with a hundred guards at the ready to chop off his stupid head--but other times? 

Other times, Geralt _doormats._

Geralt respects, defers to Vesemir. Geralt lets Yennefer treat him like shit--like a _dog,_ like a fucking _mongrel._ He takes Lambert's bullying with too much good humor, and doesn't hold grudges, no matter how deep Lambert's barbs go. He lets Eskel win every race, every drunken game of Gwent, and hauls his unconscious ass to bed afterward. He slaughtered an entire Nilfgaardian army camp just to save _one_ woman--one he'd admitted just an hour ago to diving into the sewer-canals of Novigrad for--and has been running himself ragged trying to find his adopted daughter. When he delivers bad news to contract-givers, he'll take their abuse with no comment, even though it's not _his_ fucking fault that their fathers are dead or their sons are deserters or their friends turned into werewolves. He just stands there, silent, and _takes it._

Sometimes Lambert's an asshole because he knows Geralt will let him get away with it. But sometimes he does it because he hopes that Geralt will _snap,_ beat the shit outta him, and find some fucking self-respect. It's not like Eskel, whose soul is quiet, whose thoughts run deep and deeper still. It's _different,_ because Lambert can almost _hear_ the internal monologue running through the White Wolf's head, how he feels like the shit with the Wild Hunt is his fault, how he's fucked up with Yennefer and Triss, how he can't protect Ciri, how he's failed to save countless people, friend and stranger alike, over the years. It's disgusting, the way regret and guilt roll off of him in waves, surrounding him with a fog of melancholy and weariness. It's disgusting, the way Geralt feels like that, and then has the nerve to turn around and act like it was his _destiny_ to be a witcher. He doesn't make any fucking sense, and Lambert hates him for it almost as much as he envies him for being able to believe it.

'Fuck you,' Lambert says preemptively. 'Don't even start, you fucking blowhard. Keep your pretty-boy face outta my business, all right?'

Geralt looks confused and slightly taken aback. Lambert almost feels bad, because sometimes he forgets that Geralt can't read _him_ the way _he_ can read Geralt.

'Just shut up, all right? Just... shut up.' Lambert suddenly feels so, so tired. His eyes are sore and weary. His head is pounding with the noise of the shithole tavern. Every time he tries to sleep, he hears the echo of Aiden's laughter, sees the moonlight reflecting in Aiden's dark eyes as shining, as breath-taking as all of the stars, remembers the way Aiden's hand stole into his to squeeze his fingers in commiseration over a lacklustre contract they'd shared as they left yet another backwater village behind them... 

Witchers don't usually share contracts. But it doesn't matter, because now Lambert has no one he'd want to share contracts with.

Geralt pushes his drink across the table. 'You look like you need it more than I do.'

Lambert glares at him. 'I _need_ to find those fucks who killed my friend. You gonna help, or what?'

'I'll help,' says Geralt. 'Where do we start?'

  
\---  
  


Lambert almost steals the cat medallion off the dead guy. He wants _Aiden's,_ and knowing he'll never find it pisses him off enough to make him want to steal somebody else's to replace it.

But it's not the one Aiden wore. It's not the one that thumped against his chest, slick with sweat, under his armor, with a few stray hairs tangled around the chain. It's not the medallion that hit Lambert in the face more than once, that Lambert used to yank Aiden close enough to kiss, that Lambert traced his fingers over ever so lightly while Aiden slept beside him.

And Lambert _hates_ that dead man--for being responsible for Aiden's death, for being a remorseless jackass who had the fucking _gall_ to try and leave the Path for a normal life that he didn't deserve, for thinking that he could cheat himself a family and it would change who he was-- _what_ he was. Lambert hates that man for having a medallion that looks just like Aiden's, while he can't even have _that_ \--just _one little thing,_ one small memento of someone who _mattered_ to him, a tangible _something_ to remind him of the most important fucking person who'd _ever_ been in his life--

 _'Fuck!'_ Lambert shrieks like a dying bruxa. He kicks the corpse at his feet, even though the dead man can't feel it. 'Fucking _damn_ it! Fuck every fucking _thing_ in this shithole fucking world! It's not fair! I didn't fucking _ask_ for any of this, and it's not fucking _fair!'_

'...I know,' Geralt's voice says, haltingly, from somewhere behind him. 'It's not fair. It's not right. And... I'm sorry.'

'Fuck off with your sorry!' Lambert turns on him. 'Fuck you and your _sorry_ and your _destiny_ and all that shit! You have _no idea_ what it's like to always be the loser! 'Cause you're _Geralt_ of _fucking Rivia,_ the living legend! You don't remember what it was like to be _normal!_ You don't even know what it's like to be _witcher_ -normal! So don't tell me you fucking _know._ You don't know _shit!'_

'Lambert, stop it,' says Geralt, a bit more forcefully. 'That's not what I'm trying to--'

'I don't fucking _care_ what you're trying to do!' Lambert explodes. 'I _care_ that my _fucking life_ doesn't belong to me! I _care_ that I've been turned into a fucking _tool_ and everyone expects me to just go along with it! I _care_ that I can't even fucking be _in love_ with someone without it going to shit-- 'cause everyone around me is a fucking judgmental _prick,_ 'cause the only person who ever gave a _shit_ about me is fucking _dead!_ Okay? _That's_ what I care about, Geralt. Not _you_ and your fucking _non-problems._ I care about _myself_ , because no one else fucking _will.'_

Geralt doesn't say anything about that. He just grabs Lambert by the shoulders and pulls him into the most awkward fucking hug Lambert's ever gotten in his entire life. How does anyone live as long as Geralt and _still_ not know how to give a fucking _hug_? How can anyone be that awkward and clueless? But Geralt is, apparently, because his response after Lambert insulted him is to go for touchy-feely times, the fucking prick.

At first Lambert struggles, but Geralt holds fast. And Lambert is _so_ tired--so fucking _tired_. Too fucking tired. So... so he just stands there, and takes it. _Takes_ the useless fucking hug. His medallion and Geralt's are both digging into his collarbone. Geralt's gloves have bits of charred drowner guts clinging to them where one of the fuckers got too close to an Igni--Lambert can smell it. Also a bit of that perfume one of his sorceresses likes--the sentimental fuck must be carrying some _token_ with him, like the loser he is. Like the loser Lambert would be, if only he could have Aiden's medallion.

Just to remember him. Just to _remember._

'I wanna make it better for you, but I can't,' Geralt says in an awkwardly apologetic way. 'I can't change the past, even though I wish I could. Fuck, I wish I could. I wish I could make it right. All I can do, though... all I can do is be here right now. So I'm here, okay? I'm here for you.'

'Shut the fuck up!' Lambert sobs, snot flying everywhere. But he twists his fingers up in the straps of Geralt's sword-belt, and doesn't fight him anymore. Then, in a voice he refuses to acknowledge as his own: 'I fucking _loved_ him, Geralt. I... I loved him.'

'I know.'

'They woulda killed us for it.'

'I know.'

'Why? I just... fucking _why_? I can't fucking _stand_ it.'

'They're scared. They're just... scared. Too scared to think. Too scared to remember that we were like them, once. That we're not all that different, even now.'

'I fucking _hate_ them sometimes, you know? I just... why do I fucking bother protecting these people who'd be glad to watch me _die?_ Why do we do it?'

Geralt sighs, breath gusting warm over Lambert's ear. It's a little comforting, but mostly annoying. 

'We do it 'cause no one else can. We do it 'cause it's right.'

'Being right sucks,' Lambert announces sulkily, pulling away from the stupid shitty hug.

Geralt just smiles a slightly crooked half-smile. 'Mhm.'

'You're the most unhelpful person, ever.'

Geralt nods readily. 'Mhm.'

Lambert shakes his head in disgust and starts the trek back to the Gold Sturgeon. 'You owe me a fucking drink, Wolf.'

He doesn't bother waiting, and doesn't have to. Behind him, he hears Geralt's soft, fond, familiar, _'Mhm.'_


End file.
